


please tell me (is this real?)

by LittleMissAgrafina



Series: Comfortember 2020 [14]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hugs, Irondad, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Canon Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Psychological Trauma, Still upset that isn't a tag, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissAgrafina/pseuds/LittleMissAgrafina
Summary: Tony looked up from where he was sitting on the porch swing just outside the door to the living room, his face falling slightly as he took in Peter's appearance.The teen was pale, his hands were shaking, and he looked moments away from crying."Oh, kiddy. Come here, Bambi." Tony shifted and opened his arms to Peter who immediately surged forward, sliding onto the swing and curling into Tony's arms.---Comfortember Day 17. Flashbacks
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Comfortember 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995808
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	please tell me (is this real?)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write more about Peter and the after effects of Beck's illusions in FFH and this prompt gave me the perfect opportunity!  
> Hope you guys like it! Lemme know what you think? If you want:)

Flashbacks were a part of the superhero gig. Peter knew that, he did, but that didn't make them any easier to deal with. 

  
  


He hated them and he hated just how much they had changed his life, how the flashbacks affected so many of the things he did and saw in his daily life. Things were different because of them, and they were different from something as big as hating being near lakes or enclosed spaces, to the small and simple thing like getting a sandwich.

  
  


He couldn't walk past the bank near Delmar's anymore. At least not without seeing the same flashes and rays of otherworldly energy from his first run in with alien technology, without the guilt of the memory of the destruction that had been wrought on Mr. Delmar's deli.

  
  


When he patrolled, he couldn't go through the area where the warehouse fell on him without feeling echoes of the weight and pain of tons of concrete slabs and metal beams pressing down on him. It left him with claustrophobia.

  
  


He couldn't ride the bus to school or events anymore, the yellow vehicle now associated with Thanos, with swinging off to help Mr. Stark. With Titan.

  
  


With dust.

  
  


He couldn't touch lots of sand anymore, he hated that it took beach and lake days away from him.

  
  


He couldn't stand the colour orange or the feel of the Iron Spider suit. 

  
  


Couldn't, couldn't, couldn't. There were  _ so many couldn'ts.  _ Peter misses the times where  _ couldn't _ was  _ can _ . 

  
  


He missed being able to have fun, to walk to Delmar's and get his favourite sandwich, he missed joking with Ned and MJ on the bus. He missed tinkering with the nanites of the Iron Spider suit.

  
  


Peter couldn't do any of it without flashes of the bad times that came with the things he used to enjoy. Like old silver that had been neglected, not worn and left in the dark, the bad had tarnished the good that he once had.

  
  


Europe and Beck only added to the tarnish, to the  _ couldn'ts. _ Except that it now added to his mind as well, the one place he used to be able to trust to be right, to be true. Even when anxiety twisted his thoughts and made it hard to think of the good, his brain had still been a constant.

  
  


Now it wasn't.

  
  


Now it terrified him, made him doubt things that were supposed to be true, supposed to be real.

  
  


Peter would look at his hands while he was busy with homework, how one second they were there in front of him, holding a pen above his notebook, and the next they would rumble to dust only to flicker back seconds later, solid and whole once again.

  
  


He had full days, sometimes, of incidents like that one, exhausting days of flickering in and out of reality, not always knowing what was or wasn't real.

  
  


Peter would see glimpses of Beck out the corner of his eyes sometimes, he would turn and look but the only similarity on the person would be a beard and brown hair in the same style as Beck once had.

  
  


Peter had days like that, but he also had good days that were so clear, so real, that he wanted to cry at the relief of it.

  
  


The bad days were often and they were hard but he wasn't alone. He had his family who were all so willing to help him, to care, to love.

  
  
  


\---

  
  
  


Peter woke up one day while he stayed at the lakehouse and felt the twisted, fuzzy confusion that had become almost familiar over the last year.

  
  


His hands felt tingly and he could already feel the doubt of where he was starting slip into his mind.

  
  


Before it could settle too deep, Peter pushed his duvet off and clambered over his abandoned backpack out the door towards the familiar, irregular heartbeat of Tony, his dad in all but blood.

  
  


Tony looked up from where he was sitting on the porch swing just outside the door to the living room, his face falling slightly as he took in Peter's appearance.

  
  


The teen was pale, his hands were shaking, and he looked moments away from crying. 

  
  


"Oh, kiddy. Come here, Bambi." Tony shifted and opened his arms to Peter who immediately surged forward, sliding onto the swing and curling into Tony's arms.

  
  


The familiarity grounded him slightly but he still felt so damn unsure of himself, his mind continually dredging up memories of Beck and his illusions. They played in flashes behind his eyes.

  
  


"Is this real?" Peter suddenly blurted frantically. The images burning faster and brighter in his head.

  
  


Tony smoothed his hand over Peter's curls, cradling his head close to his chest. "It's real, Peter. Beck is gone, his illusions, his drones, his  _ lies, _ they're all gone. I promise you."

  
  


A small whimper fell from Peter's lips. He so desperately wanted to believe it, wanted it to be real. It  _ felt  _ real, it was real. Why didn't his mind want him to have that truth?

  
  


"You can ask Fri, Bug. She'll show you the proof, the data, the files, whatever you need to feel safe. Just like normal, yeah? You can ask anything, but I promise that he's gone." Tony said.

  
  


"Friday?" Peter asked, his voice low and timid, nervous. He just wanted to know. He had to know, to remember, to realise.

  
  


Friday spoke up dutifully, her familiar Irish lilt and the words of proof and evidence she confirmed to Peter letting him relax and feel safe.

  
  


Maybe it wouldn't last forever, maybe only just in this moment of time here, as Peter sat curled in his dad's embrace, but he felt safe. He was real, the house was real, and Tony was real, the irregular yet strong heartbeat against where his head rested on Tony's chest solidifying his reality just a bit more.

  
  


The flashes would come, the moments of fearful, reality wrapping doubt would be hard to get past, but they weren't constant. They weren't forever or concrete.

  
  


Peter Parker was real and that was enough for now.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, I'm going to be editing and reposting these a day or two after the og posting once my beta/s have had time to edit and check them over for me. There won't be massive changes I don't think but I just wanted to put it out there lol


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